The Illumination of Suzumiya Haruhi
by jcgonzo
Summary: The relentless march of time waits for no man, alien, esper or time traveler. Not even "God." With high school come and gone, what new challenges await for them... in college?
1. Prologue: I AM HERE

I sometimes get the feeling I missed a lot in high school. I don't mean "I should've asked that girl out sooner" or "maybe I should've joined a sports team" or "I shouldn't have bombed that class" or anything as shallow as that – the springtime of my youth was altogether _too_ busy. Even if I didn't want to participate in some of the events that occurred, I was dragged along in their wake – often by my tie. Really, I had no choice but to live in the moment.

…I'll never admit it to her, but I _am_ somewhat grateful for that. As I've learned since, once in a lifetime opportunities are usually something _you_ have to grab – they almost never grab you. Readjusting to that has been… at times, tricky. These days, I just ask myself, "What would _she_ do?"

Sometimes, I have to follow that up with "...that _won't_ land me in jail?"

But living in the moment has its own problems. Chief among them: the details are so overwhelming, so vivid, so omnipresent... that you forget that they're just details.

I wonder... what was _really_ going on?

[Date Unknown, Author Unknown]

It was, in hindsight, a bit embarrassing. When the test results came out, his mother actually broke down in tears. Tears of joy, certainly, but the public spectacle… well, actually, the public spectacle of it didn't bother him so much as the implication that it was nothing short of a miracle that he got in at all.

It wasn't a miracle. It might've been… theoretically… divinely influenced, but _first and foremost_ it was because Haruhi had demanded that they cram for the test.

"Koizumi-kun's waiting for his Brigade!" she exclaimed one afternoon, near the end of the summer break before their last year. "And Mikuru-chan – I'm sure your parents would much prefer that you attend a big-name university instead of the local technical school, right?" Yuki, they needn't mention – her academic output was… optimal. The faculty mainly left her alone for fear of doing anything at all to disturb that.

Of course, Asahina tried to stammer an excuse, and Kyon struggled – apathetically, of course – against the idea, but not for too long. Koizumi had pointedly asked that he do his best to keep her from getting bored, and if… ergh… studying was the way to do it, it would at least be the least troublesome idea Haruhi had gotten into her head _all high school_.

That was easily acceptable – really, anything that succeeded in keeping Haruhi occupied was. Yes, there was that incident with the Sky Canopy Domain that had left Nagato listless for two weeks during the winter (and Haruhi fussing over them, even going so far as to make Kyon buy them all facemasks, alcohol wipes and mouthwash – the chemical taste of artificial mint had lingered on his tongue for weeks). And he had had to work out two complicated closed timelike loops because of that sneering bastard Fujiwara – though that, at least, ended with a satisfying punch, even if his relationship, or what there was of it, with Sasaki noticeably cooled for a while afterwards.

But that was, what, three incidents over the span of a year? Freshman year was, ironically, a lot harder. All he had to really worry about was his grades now, and thanks to Yuki's minor tampering with timelike relativity in the club room, at least he had plenty of _time_ to sit down and learn everything. He even enjoyed Asahina-san's tea once in a while, when she came by from her "part-time job." He'd even grudgingly admit that maybe Haruhi's capabilities as a tutor had something to do with it.

So it wasn't a major miracle that they got into Tokyo University. It was mainly a lot of hard work… and maybe a bit of bending the laws of physics, but mostly a lot of hard work. So it was really embarrassing that even his own family thought him incapable of working this hard without external prompting.

…no. No, that wasn't the most embarrassing thing. The most embarrassing thing was that they were _right_. Maybe it was a miracle – a miracle that either started in freshman year, or during Tanabata, three years before that.

He'd bite his own tongue off before telling her that. Haruhi's head was already inflated enough from the lavish praise his own mother was heaping onto her during that night's celebration.

"Oh, _do _take care of him, Haruhi-chan," said Kyon's mother, her face slightly flushed from happiness and sake. The remnants of a sushi feast laid before them – a tragic scene of carnage left by half a dozen tearing, rending, hungry maws, most of which was Taniguchi's fault especially once Kyon and Haruhi's dads decided to pull out the bottles of sake, the tittering disapproval of their wives be damned. Pretty much everybody even remotely related to the SOS Brigade was celebrating – though the relative lack of parents drew quizzical glances from those not in the inner circle.

"He's been such an aimless boy since middle school," his mom continued, much to his embarrassment. "I'm extremely relieved that you'll be there with him!" Haruhi laughed awkwardly as the older woman grasped her hands imploringly. "Please, at least make sure he chooses a major!"

"Now, Natsuki. Haruhi-chan has her own academic career to consider." Kyon breathed a sigh of relief. His father could be a sarcastic bastard, but he was a force of calm and reason. "Yes, Kyon-kun probably needs a guardian, but we shouldn't ask her to sacrifice her own future for him" Dammit, old man!

"Oh, I'm sure Kyon-kun can handle himself fine," said Haruhi's mother, laughing politely. "It's really Haruhi I'm worried about! She was such a wild child before she met him! I'm surprised at how level-headed she's been lately – if it takes Kyon-kun to settle her down, maybe we ought to… cement the deal? "

"M-mother!" protested Haruhi, flushed bright red. "I- I think you've had enough to drink. Don't you think, Dad?"

"Mmm… it would put me at ease if I knew my daughter was in the care of a capable young man like Kyon," said her father, blithely ignoring her. "Tokyo is a very long ways off, after all."

"You may be right, Suzumiya-san," said Kyon's mother thoughtfully as she mulled over their, for lack of a better word, proposal.

"Oh c'mon!" finally protested Kyon. "Are we seriously having this conversation?" He stood up, his legs a little wobbly thanks to Taniguchi – and, surprisingly, the usually reserved Kunikida – forcefeeding him booze (not terribly long before they both got dragged home). "Not only have we not even started college yet, we're not – not da… argh, whatever." Kyon slumped. This wasn't the first time the two families had met. Haruhi was already stammering her own protests, the parents were too drunk – on booze and on their own little dream of generational domesticity, and both Yuki and his little sister were both playing with Shamisen. It was hopeless – his life being was dragged in the wake of others, as usual.

Kyon made a few excuses and stepped out. The night was a comfortable chill – late March, and the spring of this year had begun to erode the frost of winter. He breathed a sigh of relief – being cooped up with the party inside was a little more than he could bear right now.

They _weren't_ dating.

They'd talked it over before. After Mikuru and Itsuki having graduated, figuring out the logistics of keeping them in constant contact with the club (and overseeing Haruhi) became downright impossible for their respective agencies. Attempts were made to replace them, of course – the SOS Brigade saw an influx of freshmen for a while, but it wasn't just Haruhi's overwhelming personality that drove them away, one by one. There was also the sense that the SOS Brigade was made up of… individuals. Specific individuals. Others were welcomed, but they weren't… inner circle.

That whittled the Brigade down to the effective strength of three by the end of the first month.

Yuki didn't talk much – Haruhi _loved_ to talk. So they talked. And, yes, they grew closer. And, yes, there was a tacit understanding that there wasn't "anybody else," so to speak.

…but.

Kyon furrowed his brow as he sat on the steps of his home's entrance. Yeah, yeah – another wave of guilt. _He_ was the one that friendzoned her. Or, rather, implicitly friendzoned her with the extra layer of subtle hinting that maybe, eventually things would change. In short, he was leading on one of his... closest friends.

"I am sorry to say this, but… pragmatically, this is a near-optimal scenario for the Organization, actually," said Koizumi apologetically during one of their regular Skype sessions. "Her interest is sustained – and it is legitimate interest. I am sure you are aware of her reputation in middle school…?"

"Yeah, Taniguchi told me about that," said Kyon wryly. "But, look – this can't go on indefinitely, right?"

"Of course, of course. We are willing to lend assistance, if you choose to… seek deeper intimacy with her. But, unless I am mistaken, that isn't why you called me."

Koizumi never sneered. That said, there were times when Kyon still wanted to wipe the smile off of his face. Okay, sure – Itsuki's problems were often more life-threatening than the will-they-won't-they tension that so delights their school's rumor mill. Still, Closed Space events were getting rarer – and Kyon's problem was a _constant_.

"Kyon, it would help if I knew how you felt about the situation," said the esper, breaking the silence.

"I… I don't know," said Kyon, slumping into his chair. "Okay, yes. I like her. But _because_ of who she is, I have to doublethink every move I make around her. I even have to meta-think, and then frame my actions on how much they're influenced by her subconscious! That's…"

"Hard?"

"Extremely."

There was a slight lag before Itsuki nodded. "And you're also concerned about how much of how you feel and act is because of how she wants you to feel and act."

"Wha- yes. Dammit, if you can read me like that, why can't you ever win a game of poker?"

"Heh. Well, we all have our flaws. You've talked to Yuki-san about this, right?"

Kyon nodded. "'No discernible alterations to your probabilistic waveform' or something like that. Basically, she isn't subconsciously meddling – maybe. But Yuki has her limitations too, and Mikuru's silent on how it plays out – if she knows at all. How do you 'observe' that something's changed if your prior observations of it are changed with it?"

"Something the Organization would dearly love to know too," said Itsuki, smiling faintly. "But this is perhaps irrelevant. Your paranoia about your free will in this matter serves as evidence that you maintain it – or else, you wouldn't be worrying about it."

"There's a strange loop there, you realize," grumbled Kyon.

"Yes, but for now, it serves your needs. There's nothing you can do about it except act as normally as possible. If the bounds of that includes affection for our dear brigade leader, then so be it. Of course, that isn't what's actually troubling you."

"I feel like you're peeling me like an onion," groused Kyon. He leaned back on his chair and sighed. "Yes, of course you're right. What's bothering me is that I _have_ to play conspiracy games with her. And I don't know how long I can pull it off if we get… if we…"

"Get intimate?"

"Yes," said Kyon blandly, unamused.

"Well, your desire for honesty and integrity towards her is to be commended," said Itsuki, quite amused. "And perhaps a sign that your relationship with her would be a mature and stable one – relatively speaking, given the nature of both parties." Kyon rolled his eyes at the esper. "However… you're right. There isn't an easy answer here. And, of course, very little precedence."

"Right, because almost nobody's ever dated a slumbering god," said Kyon sardonically. "Thanks, Itsuki. You've been a great help."

The esper laughed and shook his head. "Perhaps it would help if I simplified the problem for you? What you want is a state of equality with Suzumiya-san. One where you don't need to hide from her. Also one where she is not… 'awakened.'"

Kyon barked out a derisive laugh. "They're mutually exclusive! Either I hurt her, or I allow her to destroy everything else! It's impossible to reconcile!"

"Then… as the assigned Hero of this story, you will have to reach beyond the impossible." Itsuki paused and shook his head. "No, I am mistaken. You are… _destined _to go beyond it. It is, after all, the nature of the Hero."

"Yeah. Easier said than done," muttered Kyon upon the steps of his home, echoing his sentiments from that chat not too long ago.

"Kyon?" said Haruhi as the door quietly opened behind him. She stepped out and patted him on the head reassuringly. "Hah, don't worry. They were just teasing you. Your dad pulled out the karaoke machine, by the way."

"…oh, great," groaned Kyon. "Mom's going to want a round. Don't tell her I said this, but she can't carry a tune at all."

"Heh heh heh… blackmail material…" snickered Haruhi. "Ow!" She pouted as Kyon tapped her on the head.

"Were they really?" scowled Kyon, distractedly. "Teasing, I mean?"

"Hmph! My parents better be! Some jokes go too far – who makes an arranged marriage these days?" snorted Haruhi derisively. "A-and with you…" And the occasional, increasingly frequent awkwardness settled between them.

Haruhi tried not to be disappointed when he looked away. Tried not to be disappointed in general, actually. Their talks – maybe that should be capitalized into Talks – over the preceding school year had been roundabout, seeding from the usual vitriolic banter they've had since freshman year and flourishing into winding, waxing dialogues on the nature of… everything. The necessity of an education. The tragedy of the commons. Whether the Tigers'd win it this year. The limitations of technology. What movies they should watch the next weekend. The fundamentals of human nature. Oddly, he shied away from discussing the nature of God, but everything else was fair game.

That damn Kyon was infuriatingly stubborn! He was always arguing _against_ her. Pulling at inconsistencies, yanking at fallacies, hammering with facts and logical constructs… she wasn't quite aware when it happened – some time between screaming matches in each other's faces (her screaming; him mercilessly peeling apart every argument), between her surprise and struggle to keep ahead of what seemed to be his latent and slowly awakening academic abilities, between the quiet days when he found himself too exhausted to keep his eyes open, and she just sat there, contemplating the mystery that was this tussled-haired, eternally unimpressed stone of a young man…

"You fucking bastard," she had seethed one day, out of the blue. He'd gaped at her – a rare moment of surprise from him. She struggled to find the right words to express her incredulity; her frustration and vague sense of betrayal; her astonishment that under his callousness, his laziness, his disdain for the slightest bit of wonder and awe, Kyon was _brilliant_. Not just smart – though what kind of supposedly mediocre student could spout a nuanced analysis of utilitarian and Kantian philosophy one day, and the problems with faster-than-light travel the next? No, he was brilliant in another, more vital way – to _her_. She _valued_ his insights, as crudely worded as they are. She _wanted_ his approval. She _wanted_ to…

Well, she wanted to kiss him.

And because introspection was so alien to her, because considering consequences was beneath her…

"H-Haruhi," he gasped, muffled, and she wondered how long he'd been calling her by her given name so familiarly without her noticing.

She stammered an apology – another alien act to her, accentuated by its awkwardness – and ran home that day.

They'd talked more, since. Calmer, but more passionate. More… intimate, even. It even seemed, somehow, to cause the others to edge back into her life – and she somewhat resented how they merely nodded as if expecting this development. Yuki speaking up more, in indecipherably dense words, extrapolating on either of their arguments; Koizumi-kun coming by over break to help with their studies, discussing the classes he had been taking and the research his professors have undertook, helping them – _them_ – plan out their joint futures; even cute, silly Mikuru-chan had meekly offered to take her shopping before she was supposed to go to Kyon's house for the college entry celebration – shopping, that is, for clothes. Somehow or the other, Tsuruya-chan got involved, and a simple shopping trip turned into a full-blown spree involving crepes, shoes, dresses and… and lingerie.

The green-haired girl had… extravagant tastes.

Dammit, Tsu-chan! Haruhi's face flushed as she remembered and she huddled in embarrassment, suddenly all too aware of her own skin.

"Are you cold?" asked Kyon curiously.

"No! No. It's nothing," she protesting, vaguely waving away his concerns. Cold? She was too _warm_, if anything. "Sorry, maybe I drank too much."

"Ah, yeah. I'd apologize for my old man, but since your dad also…"

"Heh." They shared a chuckle as the crickets sang.

For a moment, it was peaceful. She was content. Maybe this wasn't so bad.

But that mask. He never dropped it. She could _feel_ that there was something between them – something he wouldn't or couldn't say. She knew that he was aware of her own awareness – but that alone wasn't enough to dispel that quiet, haunted look just barely visible at times on the edges and subtle flaws of his mask.

The melancholy of Yorimoto Kyouhei was a mystery that fascinated her, frustrated her, and, in turn, left her melancholic.

Would there always be this… tension?

"Well, hey. We still have the rest of the school year, yeah?" asked Kyon, interrupting her thoughts. He nudged her familiarly. "Still need help with English?"

"Still need help with calculus?" she retorted.

"Baaahh. Numbers hate me."

"Laaaaazy! Don't think you're off the hook just because the entrance tests are all done!"

"Yare yare…" They laughed as a woman's voice warbled off-key in the background and the warm spring breeze gently passed through. Kyon stood up, and reached down.

She smiled as she took his hand.

And all was well with the world.

The school year drew to a close without (much) incident. Spring swelled with rainclouds and green growths, the pungent aroma of gingko trees caused its annual rounds of allergies, and the SOS Brigade ran afoul of the student council yet again when Haruhi commandeered the Music Club's equipment for an impromptu performance during the school festival.

There were pictures of it all, scattered across Haruhi's desk.

"Just – unph – stuff them into a shoebox or something," grunted Kyon as he struggled with a shipping box full of hardback books. "You can sort them – grnt – out later."

"No way! And let them gather dust? Also, stop being a wimp. Yuki hasn't even broken a sweat."

Kyon bit his tongue before he spat out a badly thought out retort. "Why the hell are we unloading your stuff for you anyhow?" Student apartments in Tokyo were already on the small side – not that it kept Haruhi from making Kyon lug around what seemed to be an Everest-sized pile of brown boxes full of... stuff. How'd she manage to fit all this in her parent's sedan?

"Hey, I helped you and Yuki move in too, you know," retorted Haruhi.

"Yeah, but Yuki barely packed _anything_." Other than an admittedly enormous library of science fiction works, meticulously organized by author, series and theme. "And I swear I don't have even a tenth of the stuff you brought."

"Hey, a girl's got needs."

"You apparently have_ too many._"

Haruhi stuck her tongue out at him. "Just put those over at the third bookshelf – and grab that picture frame for me, will you?"

"Alright, alright..." A knock on the door interrupted their casual bickering. "Ah, Asahina-san."

"Kyon-kun, Haruhi-chan," said Mikuru as she stepped in, smiling at the chaotic mess. "Sorry I couldn't get here earlier. My... my guardians just dropped me off. Have you two gotten lunch yet?"

As if on cue, an audible growl was heard. "Oh – oh yeah! Lunch!" said Haruhi, her face flushed in embarrassment. "I guess this is a good time to figure out where the food is around here, huh?"

"Well, unless you _want_ to be a starving college student..." drawled Kyon. He leaned against the bookshelf, wiping the sweat off his brow. "The school's cafeteria's open, right?"

"Man, your first meal in Tokyo, and you want to eat at the school cafeteria?" asked Haruhi, staring at him incredulously.

"No, my first meal in Tokyo was a bowl of ramen when I was a kid," said Kyon, rolling his eyes. "Besides, don't you want to check out the campus? We might as well figure out where our classes are before the term actually starts, you know."

"You're so boring sometimes," complained Haruhi. "Fine, fine. That okay with you, Mikuru?"

"Ah... I'm fine with whatever." Asahina smiled at the two, a little wistfully. "Should we get Koizumi-san and Nagato-san?"

"Eh, might as well," said Haruhi, shrugging. "Kyon! Where'd I put my purse?"

Midday abroad a train in Tokyo thankfully didn't include the breathless crush of bodies that defined the morning rush. Not to say that it wasn't busy – they were clearly not the only students taking in the local color before the start of the term. Not all of them were Japanese either – Kyon had heard that Todai counted about two or three thousand international students amongst its student body, which in turn was a little over ten times that number in size. Haruhi had awkwardly tried to strike up a conversation with a couple of European-looking students, taking pity as they looked especially lost. They had politely pretended not to notice Kyon muttering fixes to her grammar or word usage, or the way she'd kept a fixed grin while trodding on his foot in irritation. Mikuru seemed fluent in comparison – or, at least, less abused as a translator.

"Umm... they told us to meet them at the _Akamon_, right?" murmured Mikuru, a little flustered as she fiddled with a copy of the campus map as they exited the train station. "...isn't there something less primitive than..."

Haruhi laughed. "Mikuru-chan's bad with maps, huh? You don't need a GPS unit to find your way around campus, silly." She took the redhead's hand and dragged her off. Kyon hurried to catch up with them before they got lost in the growing lunchtime crowd, but paused mid-stride as a hand grasped his sleeve.

"Eh? Yuki?" He blinked as the shorter girl appeared suddenly beside him. "Weren't we going to meet up at the red gates?"

"Where is Suzumiya Haruhi?" she asked flatly.

"You just missed them-"

"Interception required." Yuki grabbed his hand and pulled towards where the other girls had gone.

"Wait – what, Yuki. What's going on?" Kyon struggled to keep up as he was pulled along."What's the big rush-"

Wait, there was something wrong. Yuki could move quickly, but she was never this... urgent. Her body language could almost be read to be in a panic.

Yuki _never_ panicked.

Kyon cursed the seconds he wasted and started running – even then, he was still being pulled along. If Yuki, with her nearly omnipotent capabilities, needed him for something, it was obviously for the one thing he could just barely do: convince Haruhi _not_ to do something. What that "something" was could wait – or could it? His own panic was starting to grow – the crowd was abnormally thick now, and he could pick up bemused murmurs as Yuki pulled him along. She could probably flash-step her way through the crowd easily enough by herself, probably even avoiding anybody's notice by some sort of cloaking program, but since she had to take him along-

-oh.

Oh, _damn_.

No wonder there was such a crowd. No wonder Yuki was actually... _upset_. The _Akamon_ had been vandalized. Black, tarry paint had been smeared across its grounds.

"Haruhi!" said Kyon, grabbing the brunette's still shoulders as he caught up with her – too late, far too late. "Haruhi!"

She didn't respond. Her purse had slipped, unnoticed, off her shoulders and onto the ground. Asahina was trembling, unsure of what to say or do, the panic on her face far more vivid, but no more or less intense, than what Yuki expressed.

A sign smeared in vivid, blatant, even obnoxious paint – something Kyon hadn't seen in three years. For Haruhi, it had been six years. Six years since, in a fit of adolescent pique, she had broken into her school, and with the aid of a mysterious high school student, scrawled chalk across the blacktop.

A message understandable only to those it was intended to address:

"I AM HERE"

[The Revelations of Haruhi Suzumiya]

[Prologue: I AM HERE]

[END]

* * *

_A good fic, I have been convinced, needs good beta readers. Not a cheer team, but somebody that's willing to give an honest impression – and, hopefully, help you untangle the worst of your self-inflicted knots._

_So, with that, thanks to Chris A. and Charlotte W. for helping me make sure that my return to ficcing wasn't a total bloody disaster~_


	2. The Akamon Incident I

"...realize that the axiom 'observation IS interaction' is certainly true in a _physical_ (or, rather, quantum) sense. But to turn it into the underpinnings of some kind of ethical philosophy is ridiculous. Especially given the nature of your proposed undertaking – are you certain you haven't been unduly influenced by your prior 'work?'

It would be... regrettable if you chose to pursue this line of inquiry too far. I will, as always, do what I can to support you, but...

Look, the very first thing we learned: 'do not call up that which you cannot put down.' I fear we may yet be _dragged away_ by our own excessive cleverness..."

[Letter fragment]

Chapter 1 – The Akamon Incident (I)

They say that the Chinese have a particular curse: "may you live in interesting times." I can certainly see where they're coming from – once you've been ambushed, deceived and led into the various agendas of aliens, espers and time travelers, you quickly learn to appreciate the great value and joy in simple things like being able to sleep in on a weekend, have a calm and peaceful chat with a friend, or having an elegant cup of tea brewed for you by somebody lovely.

...ah, but to be honest, it's sometimes alright to have interesting times. There was a world, a choice, that I left behind, locked in the stasis of an eternal December... but even if I had regrets, it would've been long since too late to express them.

I guess, then, that this was my karma coming back to me, or Kami-sama laughing at my folly. What I saw before me, outlined in police tape and highlighted by the buzz of the crowd, was far, far too "interesting" for my tastes. Oy – this better not be some stupid joke.

Joke or not, this was an utter catastrophe.

Haruhi was trembling slightly in shock and recognition – bluffing my way out of this going to be outright impossible now. Mikuru was flustered – and distracted, flinching as though somebody was yelling at her. I would imaging her superiors had plenty to say about this event. My cellphone, too, was ringing off the hook – I didn't even need to look to know it was from Itsuki.

Yuki was the only one that hadn't reacted. I suspect it was because she had calculated that it was too late to take any action.

The sky turned a dark, gray-tinged blue.

"Ah," said Itsuki, suddenly next to us amidst the still, abandoned silence of the _Akamon_. "I see we're too late."

Yeah, no shit. This was the absolute worst-case scenario. Whoever did this – but it' was too late to even worry about that, huh?

"Kyon... Kyon," stammered Haruhi. "What are you talking about? What's going on? This... this isn't a dream this time, is it?"

I sighed.

"Haruhi, there's something I've been meaning to tell you..."

* * *

Once, a long time ago, my dad and mom brought me to a baseball game.

We've always been Hanshin Tigers fans – though, by "we," I mean the Suzumiya clan in general. I was taught how to swing a bat by my uncle (never get him drunk – he'll rant for two straight hours about the time he was almost scouted), and Dad used to play catch with me before he got promoted at work and found himself working fifty-hour weeks at times. I kind of lost interest in the game not long afterward – except for joining the sports clubs a few times, I didn't really pay much attention to the sport.

It was the same at that game. I didn't notice the teams (though, apparently, the Tigers won that one). It was the crowds that caught my attention. The countless thousands of people, swarming like indistinguishable ants, cheering and roaring in one, unintelligible voice...

Haha, I was a weird kid, wasn't I? Mom loves to complain about that. I don't know why that crowd prompted me to think about my own insignificance. I don't know why it upset me so much to realize that I ultimately wasn't anybody special – just another face in the crowd, or voice in the din. Kids don't usually think something like that, right?

It still upsets me, sometimes.

But that was well more than six years ago now, right? I... well, I didn't exactly outgrow that attitude in middle school, but by the time I graduated high school, it was nothing more than a distant memory. Sometimes, I even forget that the Brigade was meant to track down aliens, time travelers, espers or the like – though, no matter what Kyon said, I was sure they existed. Screw Fermi's Paradox! There are countless trillions of stars out there in the sky and untold stretches of time! Isn't it the height of arrogance to assume that they don't exist just because you haven't seen them yourselves?

Though I didn't expect them to look so... familiar.

"Haruhi, there's something I've been meaning to tell you," said Kyon, and while I've seen him serious before, and heard him act resigned, looking _cornered_ was pretty new. "Do you remember a night three- er, six years ago, back when you were in middle school?"

And then I knew what was coming out next.

"Haruhi, I am John Smith."

This next part, however, was unexpected.

"And... er... you created this world."

I'd been stammering like an idiot since I saw that sign, and I guess I was going to be stammering a little while longer.

"...wait, _what?_"

He explained it to me. He was patient, weary, and thorough. From the night of Tanabata – three years ago for him – to small things like why the computer club president back in high school had seemingly forgotten about his girlfriend and even our miraculous streak against the local college baseball team that one time.

He was tearing my world apart at the seams. He didn't have a choice, did he? It was all explained to me: Itsuki's constant side jobs, Mikuru's suddenly not so adorable helplessness whenever she looked at me, Yuki's... Yukiness, I guess.

And the way Kyon tried not to cringe in fear every time I protested or got angry at a detail.

There was a giant, before us, tearing buildings apart with its bare hands. It bellowed, a hoarse and deafening explosion of despair and pain as red lights danced and lanced around it – all in beat to my own mood and thoughts. Itsuki was presumably amongst those streaks of red – he had left, bowing apologetically as he... _flew_ off. That alone... even if Kyon hadn't said the impossible, hadn't proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was the high school boy that Tanabata evening...

Didn't somebody once say that you should be careful what you wished for? Well, I was apparently my own genie, with as many wishes as I could possibly have.

And, bit by bit, it was dawning to me that this was an absolutely _terrible_ thing.

"Why me?" I finally managed to choke out. "Why me, dammit? Why should the world get destroyed just because I'm a little upset?"

Kyon flinched, and I momentarily lost my hearing as pieces of the abandoned city around us erupted in violent pyrotechnics.

"See?" I yelled, somewhat... flustered. "Nobody else has that happen to them! What makes me so special? Why can't I control this? And _why did you keep it a secret from me?_" It's... not like I was on the verge of tears or anything, but can you blame me for being _very upset_?

I founded the SOS Brigade to have _fun_, dammit! I wanted to meet aliens, time travelers and espers because... not... actually because I believed in them... but because everyday life was so dull, so dry, I thought that it would take the extraordinary to make it worth living. Because...

Because I wanted my life to be special.

But not like this.

* * *

If we somehow manage to survive this, I'm going to kill the sonovabitch behind this incident.

Haruhi was on her knees, clenching herself tightly in what I can only guess was a mix of fear, self-loathing and trauma – a trauma that manifested physically in the world around us. I was feeling pretty helpless too – tired; the sort of tired you only get after you've finally put down a great weight you'd been ceaselessly bearing. Mikuru-chan was shuddering in fear every time something boomed nearby – which was quite often now; the Organization seemed to be fighting a losing battle against the growing number of gargantuan _Shinjin_ rising out of the desolate cityscape. Only Yuki remained stoic – but her eyes were deadened. As powerful as she was, there were limits after all: in the end, even the Data Overmind was second at best to Haruhi's subconscious whims.

Which, really, left only one solution.

"I'm sorry," said Haruhi quietly. "It's my fault, isn't it? I'm... sorry."

I knelt before her and gently brushed the hair from her eyes. "Haruhi... no, it isn't." I guess that was a bit unconvincing – her melancholy wasn't shaken in the slightest. "Haruhi, look at me. Look." I shook her by the shoulders and glared. "The espers you made have been fighting all this time to keep you in check. The time travelers are here to keep you from throwing causality out of the window. The aliens can, and _have_, left you powerless when you've gone too far. If this is how your subconscious manifests itself, isn't that fine?"

I took her hand. Years have been building up to this point. Yet more may yet wait for us – the _Akamon_ grafitti hinted ominously that everything we've gone through in high school was nothing more than training for what likely to come.

But I'm not running away and pretend that it had nothing to do with me anymore. It was far too late for that. Far too late, here at the brink of world's end.

"Haruhi, it isn't too late," I said, as soothingly as I could. "Remember..." My mouth went dry – dammit, this wasn't the place to get embarrassed! "Remember that night in our freshman year, at the school?"

"That... wasn't a dream, was it?" she said, still half-dazed. "You said... you had a ponytail fetish. ...pervert."

Even in shock, she could still find time to tease me, huh? Go figure. "I said you looked _good_ in a ponytail, not – never mind. Haruhi. We can discuss this later. There will _be_ a later. School hasn't even started yet. Do you want to go back?"

"...y-yes. Yes!" Recollection dawned upon her, then chagrin. "But I don't remember how! All I remember was that you had pulled me out of the school, and there was a giant... blue... thing hovering over us, then you... you..."

"'Sleeping Beauty,'" said Yuki, with the faintest glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"I... I had to convince you that the world we lived in was interesting enough to _continue_ living in," I said. "And..."

"...and you kissed me." Her eyes flickered, troubled. "You kissed me because the world was going to end."

I barked a laugh. "I kissed you because you looked good in a ponytail. I kissed you because you were about to leave everybody that cared about you behind. And, yes, I kissed you because I didn't want to be trampled by the nebulous, blue humanoid manifestation of your repressed psych."

She laughed weakly at that. "Those are pretty good reasons."

"Aren't they?"

She was silent then, fidgeting uncomfortably. "Kyon... do you like me?"

I nodded. "You're the most exasperating person in the world... but, I like that about you. I truly do."

"Then... I want you to prove it to me."

What.

She looked up at me, shaken but determined. "If we're going back... I want something to go back for. Something to... look forward to."

The worldwas about to be destroyed, Koizumi was probably being beaten up by things hundreds of times his size and weight class, and you wanted me to-

"Kyon!"

"G-go out... with... me," I blurted out, mumbling towards the end. Smooth move, Casanova.

"Mmm? I didn't hear that last part," she said. Y-you! Try to read the mood here! "Say it again."

"Suzumiya Haruhi-san!" I said, straightening up. If she wanted me to be dramatic, fine! I bowed as low as I could go. "Please go out with me!"

I probably had a complicated expression as she laughed. But I was glad she was laughing. The tremors stopped. The _Shinjin_ were settling – disappearing as hazes of red light pressed them deep into the aether of this dreamscape.

And, hell, she wouldn't have been satisfied with a normal confession anyhow.

* * *

I laughed – because the look on his face was hilarious; because I was happy, for once, to be confessed to; because the enormous absurdity of our situation was just too much. I laughed, and he started laughing with me, and as the sky brightened into a gemlike sapphire, he held me tightly.

I caught my breath against his chest... then pushed away.

"Wait. Why are we still... here?" Kyon stared at the sky. "Er... Haruhi?"

"Wha- I'm not doing this? …am I?" I was just as bewildered. Things had calmed down, but we were still trapped in this "space." Red streaks of light flew at us – the 'Organization's' espers landed before us, breathing ragged and sweating from their fight. I didn't recognize many of them – but, wait, wasn't that the maid from the island?

"Itsuki! Mori-san!" Kyon turned towards them. "What's going on?"

"We're... we're not sure," breathed Itsuki. "Suzumiya-san's Closed Space has been nullified for a while now. This barrier is... foreign."

"External projection," said Yuki flatly. "Barrier program enacted by unknown entity. My connection to the Data Overmind has been nullified."

Kyon had told me of only one other person that had supposedly had abilities similar to my own – whatever that ability was. My mind raced back to the face of an irritating girl. But... but that didn't make any sense. Kyon said that Sasaki didn't move out of Nishinomiya – she went to a college closer to home, right?

"It isn't Sasaki," said Kyon tersely. His eyes swept the world around us, flickering between whatever details caught his attention. "I've been in her's before as well – there's an entirely different 'feel' to it, like she was willing it to be still. Yours is tempestuous – a constant state of 'change.' The Closed Spaces reflect their originator, right, Itsuki?"

Koizumi shrugged, his perpetual smile wavering from exhaustion. "We've very little experience with the Closed Space phenomenon, other than the ones created by Suzumiya-san. But I believe you are right."

"Right. And this one feels like some bastard's staring down at us like we're bacteria in a petri dish." Kyon scratched his head in frustration. "I assume you've tried to penetrate it?"

"Yes. Unfortunately... to no result. We don't have much more to offer, at this time."

"Yare, yare," sighed Kyon. "Thank you for your hard work. Asahina-san?"

"Ah – y-yes?" quavered Mikuru, standing up quickly and brushing the dust off her skirt.

"Can you still time travel?"

"Ah..." Mikuru closed her eyes, tensed up, then wilted from the effort. "I... I can't. The barrier extends laterally across four-dimensional space. I... I don't have enough power to breach it."

Kyon frowned. "Is it just a matter of power? If you had more... whatever it is that powers it... could you make it through?" Mikuru nodded uncertainly. "Well, we'll just have to gamble on it. Yuki! Can you still lend support?"

Yuki paused, then nodded slightly. "Will require data seed for process generation."

"Data what for the process huh?"

She pointed at... me. Er. I had a bad feeling about this.

"No effort on your part is required. Permission to proceed?"

Kyon held up a hand. "Wait, wait. This is safe, right?"

"Yes."

"A-and it won't hurt, right?" I interjected hastily. Her pause then was a bit... discomforting.

"Modifications complete. Process will be painless."

"...really, you should've done that first... Then... alright, permission granted."

Wait, my head was starting to spin-

…

..

* * *

There are almost thirty _thousand _students in Tokyo University, shared between its multiple campuses across metropolitan Tokyo – arguably the financial capital of the Eastern world, with a population count to fit. All of them were, of course, accessible by the metro rail, which theoretically made them easy to access no matter where you lived in the city. Practically, this meant that every car was like a can of sardines every morning – an impression accentuated by the somber gray suits of tightly packed businessmen that shared the route.

It was a bit overwhelming, when compared to the sleepy railways and roads of Nishinomiya. Well, wait – overwhelming would make me sound like some sort of backwater hick, and Nishinomiya wasn't _that_ small. "Suffocating," maybe. Not enough damn air in this city – every cubic meter was occupied with what felt like four times the number of elbows as there were people, and there were _a lot of people around_.

I was almost literally _poured_ out of the train when it reached the Hongo campus stop, staggering as I made those first few steps into relatively open freedom. The trains – I still haven't gotten used to the damn trains. Maybe by the end of this year – damn! Running late!

I hurried onto the campus. First day of the Spring term – and while most classes, even in Todai, wouldn't have much for me to do on the first day, there was still the line at the bookstore to beat, supplies to pick up, people to talk to... oh, right, breakfast. I should take care of that too, huh?

A peaceful start to the first day of school. I enjoyed it. Peace is to be cultivated, nourished and treasured whenever possible.

My first class of the day was just some generic language course. I'm no great writer, but it wasn't a challenging curriculum either – a few novels to pick up, a quickwrite, and some peer reviews. Kind of pointless, but relaxing. English would be a lot tougher, but necessary in the long run – I might often be accused of a lackadaisical attitude, but it doesn't mean I don't have ambitions, after all. Fluency in the world's universal lingua franca is not anything to sneer at.

Now, this next lecture may prove... interesting.

It's no secret that World History is mostly a matter of glossed generalities and hastily avoided controversies. Especially if said controversies involve, say, your own nation. While historians, in general, try to keep their facts straight (it's a bit difficult to get a degree, or garner grants, if you can't prove your assertions), the subject itself is a victim of a number of sociological factors – evidential revisions, cultural biases, and, of course, politics. The old saying "history is written by the victors" isn't a total exaggeration – but what needs to be understood is that the "victor" isn't always the one with the most guns or biggest bombs... nor is the victor today guaranteed to be the victor tomorrow.

I don't envy historians. Just keeping track of the _known_ facts is hard enough. When you've pierced – or, in some cases, accidentally stumbled through – the veil of deceit and deliberate fabrication that enshrouds the world around us, it's altogether too easy to then dismiss _everything_ you've ever learned.

Paranoia serves nobody well.

Some folks, however, don't begin to thrive until they _do_ trip into the world backstage – natural actors, gifted magicians... born directors.

Ah, I am going to miss this peace.

Let us begin, then, this tale of subterfuge and conspiracy.

* * *

It's a very good thing that the first day of classes was fairly laid back – I was spending most of my time trying not to yawn, or if failing that, at least not falling asleep.

Not my fault. Seriously. The Organization insisted that I be there for their renegotiation of agreements with the time travelers (represented by a confused and out of her depths Mikuru, haltingly repeating whatever her superiors had ordered her to say) and the Data Entity (mostly Yuki saying "yes" or "no"). It would've probably taken less time if Haruhi hadn't insisted on being there – given her inherent role in all of this, that was pretty reasonable... except when she interrupted the proceedings every few minutes to demand that I explain something to her.

She had been kept out of the loop for six years, and back in the Closed Space, I'd only given her a quick, desperate sketch. There was a _lot_ to explain. A lot of revelations. A lot of things that were new even to me.

The biggest bombshell of the night was dropped by Haruhi herself.

"Is... is it possible to give up my 'power?'" she asked. Stunned silence. "W-what?"

"D-don't be absurd!" blurted out Mori. She stopped halfway from rising and silently fumed as Arakawa stopped her with a raised hand.

"I... admit, I wasn't actually expecting that from you, Suzumiya-san," said Itsuki as he cast a worried look at me. "Isn't this the fulfillment of your dreams? We're all here – time travelers, aliens, and espers."

"No sliders, though," I quipped. "Probably waiting to make a grand entrance."

Itsuki made a strained smile in reply – sorry, bad joke. "As you said. Nonetheless... it was our operational paradigm that this world was defined by your will, Suzumiya-san. You're saying this isn't so?"

"I'm..." She had an uncomfortable look on her and clasped my hand under the table tightly. "I'm... not a saint. I've caused a lot of trouble, with or without these powers. What I really wanted was to have an extraordinary life – I didn't want the _entire world_ to depend on whether or not I approved of it."

"Suzumiya-san's come a long way in three years," said Mikuru, smiling slightly.

"W-well, I _am_ your brigade leader, you know!" exclaimed Haruhi, regaining some of her dignity. "I have to set an example for the rest of you!" She wavered hesitantly and turned to Yuki. "You... you've done it before, right? Turned my powers off?"

"Incorrect," said Yuki, unblinking. "I do not have the capability to create nor destroy data. Your capabilities were manipulated instead to reside within myself for a time."

"...why did you give them back?"

Yuki looked down. "The situation was suboptimal to my function. I was sent solely as an observer." Her eyes flickered up at me – she was uncomfortable and worried, and probably for good reason. The events of that December were... complicated, in more ways than one.

"W-well, it doesn't matter," I said, interrupting the inquiry. "It didn't work then, after all."

"I guess you're right," said Haruhi, crossing her arms and sighing with discontent. "Aw, man, this is so annoying! What's the use of godlike powers if you can't control them? If your boss wants to unravel its secrets so much, why doesn't he just take it?"

"That would be an acceptable solution," said a new voice. Everybody backed away quickly as a rip opened in midair, blinding light streaming out, and a girl with seafoam colored hair stepped out behind Yuki, who had frozen in mute surprise.

"Emiri," I bit off as I quickly stepped in front of Haruhi, blocking her off as she yelped in shock. "This doesn't concern you."

"I'm afraid that's not true," she said, smiling slightly. "Yuki is, after all, negotiating on behalf of the Integrated Data Sentient Entity. I, too, am a representative. Her supervisor, in fact."

"Haruhi, Kimidori Emiri and her allies are why Yuki's been sick so much this last year," I growled out. She pouted at me, almost humanly, the little monster. "Don't trust her. Don't accept that deal."

"Kyon, please," said Emiri, her smile unwavering. "We are the only ones that can fully isolate and contain her capabilities. Not the time travelers, not the espers, and certainly not yourself or Suzumiya-san. Isn't this the optimal scenario for all of us?"

"Is it?" I countered. "You suddenly seem quite concerned with our mutual welfare – where was that concern when you sicced an eldritch deity on Yuki?"

Emiri looked up thoughtfully, as if trying to remember some minor detail. "Oh, do you mean the situation with the Canopy Domain? That was so many cycles ago, I've nearly erased it from my recall."

"Yuki!" said Haruhi suddenly, looking down. Yuki was still kneeling, still as death. "Yuki, are you alright?"

"Of course she is," said Emiri cheerfully. "Why wouldn't she be? I must note, however, that my sponsors are expecting an answer."

"I didn't ask you!" snapped Haruhi. "Yuki, what's wrong?"

"...debate," said Yuki suddenly. "The IDSE is in... involved debate within itself." In other words, Emiri was only representing a fraction of the Data Overmind's consensus – and considering Yuki's worrying pause and tendency for understatement, it was probably an all-out war between them. Scary... "My faction wishes for minimal interference. We believe it to be harmful to our goals of autoevolution to interfere destructively with the contextualization of your powers, Suzumiya Haruhi."

"Nagato-san, desist in your interference," said Emiri, her placid smile frozen solid. "...Nagato-"

Yuki suddenly stood, as though yanked up by strings, and awkwardly approached us. She turned around, facing Emiri stoically.

"Termination of relations," she said quietly.

"We have majority consensus for our policy," said Emiri, her smile slowly dying. "We recognize that, if left unchecked, her capabilities have a high likelihood of either self-extinguishing, or destructive cascading. You insist on reneging?"

"Yes," said Yuki, immediately. The air seemed to chill – no, wait, I could see my breathe. The air was _literally _chilling. The whole room held its breathe as two godlike entities were poised on the brink of overt violence right in front of us.

"WAIT!" yelled Haruhi desperately. "Hold on! Dammit, is this always going to happen when I make an idle comment?" Yup. "Oh, shut up. Kimidori! I'll be _very, very angry_ if you do anything to harm Yuki, you understand?"

Hesitation, and the ambient temperature climbed back up. "I understand, Suzumiya-san," said our eternally polite ex-school council secretary. "I am sorry for the distress I've caused you. However, the situation-"

"The situation is up to me!" said Haruhi imperiously. "My powers, my decision! Frankly, between Kyon's hints about your treatment of Yuki-chan, and how you've behaved here, it seems to me like you _don't_ want me to give it up!" Emiri's eyes widened in surprise as she began to protest. "Well, you convinced me!" Haruhi clenched her fist in frustration – I could see the espers growing more and more nervous. Actually, so was I. "I can't trust you. The Organization can't do it either, huh?" Itsuki shook his head. "And time travel won't help-"

"Ah... actually," said Mikuru meekly, cautiously rising up from where she was hiding during Emiri's aborted showdown with Yuki. "I... might have a solution..."

And there you have it. We were up until well past midnight as Mikuru worked her way through her group's bureaucracy to get permission for a set of control/inhibitive bracelets – technology that allowed me to "dampen" her powers at-will – a capability Haruhi immediately and enthusiastically had me practice. There was an incident involving a spontaneously generated flock of penguins that would've probably had been hilarious if she hadn't have them chase _me_ around with their damnably sharp beaks. In other words, Haruhi was partying – and those useless espers would rather laugh at my plight than help me get away from those freaking beaks.

Emiri was smiling bemusedly at our antics. She stopped smiling when Haruhi suddenly stopped everything, and hugged Yuki from behind, casting a fierce glare in Kimidori's direction.

"Mine," she hissed. "You won't hurt her anymore."

Emiri blinked. "You don't mean to-"

"_Mine_. My brigade member. My friend. Leave her alone – **or else**."

Did the air just _thrum?_

Emiri slowly raised a hand. "Acknowledged." She started to shimmer and fade from sight. "Further action will not be taken against... that unit." That alien smile showed teeth as it disappeared.

"Thank you," whispered Yuki.

Later that day, Itsuki was waiting outside the lecture hall with two cups of coffee in hand. "There are two things that worries me," he said, offering a cup.

"You are a lifesaver," I breathed as I carefully drank it. "Still another lecture to go today – I think I'm dead on my feet."

"Hah, hopefully it'll be a short one," said Itsuki as we walked off. "But, as to my earlier comment..."

"You think the IDSE provoked Haruhi at the _Akamon_."

"Why – yes. How did you figure?"

"Process of elimination," I said, nodding to myself. "Mikuru didn't fully see the sign that night. The Organization, I'm willing to bet, wasn't fully formed until after that Tanabata. That leaves me and Yuki, and I would really have preferred to break the truth to Haruhi more gently."

"Of course. Then, about Suzumiya-san's declaration of protection for Yuki. I don't think-"

"Yuki was not responsible," I said, flatly, staring at Itsuki. "She tried to stop us."

"She was late," said Itsuki, raising an eyebrow. "She could have altered the sign, distract Haruhi-"

"Stop," I said, glaring at him. "She broke rank with the IDSE. I have many, many reasons to trust her. Besides, I heard about the sign from Taniguchi, back in freshman year – there was probably a newspaper article about it; Nishinomiya was a small town."

"Ah, of course. I apologize," said Itsuki mildly. "You're right. We shouldn't suspect our allies without due cause."

We walked silently towards the student commons.

"And the other thing?" I asked.

"Hmm... how to say it..." Itsuki paused, his eyes narrowed in thought. "Isn't it remarkable? That the Time/Space Agency's technology be so well-suited towards mental control? That it should be so compatible with Suzumiya-san's powers?"

Now it was my turn to pause in my tracks.

"What are you saying-"

"Ah. Koizumi-san; Yorimoto-san." A tall, thin man had suddenly appeared from around the corner of the building beside us. Roughly our age, I think; dressed conservatively in a dark sports jacket and slacks. He had a stern look on his face, and thrust a business card towards us, somewhat rudely. "I am glad to have caught up to you."

I glanced at the card. "Ninohira Consultancy?"

"Yes. I have been tasked by a client to ask you about a particular incident at the _Akamon_."

* * *

_Thanks again to Chris A. and Charlotte W. for their tremendous aid as proofreaders and sounding boards. _


End file.
